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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26764855">Da'fen</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakurali/pseuds/Nakurali'>Nakurali</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>No Inky Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:01:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,501</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26764855</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakurali/pseuds/Nakurali</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lasa'las (give hope) was a mage born into a Dalish clan, She was wild in temperament and found more familiarity with animals and the forest than her fellow Dalish. She took no comfort in their gods or way of life, finding herself questioning everything. Instead she found a kindred spirit in the form of Fen'harel. The Dread Wolf while a trickster, was an outsider like herself. Her brother, Sul'las (for hope), as her only friend and confidant humored her, carving little wooden toys of the Dread Wolf when she was young, and an idol she could wear around her neck for her thirteenth birthday; the day she was supposed to get her vallaslin. When Sul'las is called away to the Conclave she goes with him, knowing the clan would be even less welcoming with him gone. The trip quickly takes a turn and she finds herself the last hope for Thedas at sixteen and alone. She tries to find her way in the world, and hopes that if nothing else, she comes out of it with people she can call family.</p><p>I tried something new and used as little direct dialogue as possible. I like how it turned out.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blackwall/Josephine Montilyet, Cremisius "Krem" Aclassi/Maryden Halewell, Fenris/Female Hawke, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. from Hope to Dread</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was writing my other fic and this idea would not leave me alone. So I wrote the first chapter and plan to write it off and on as the inspiration comes to me. I am only planning to write until just after Skyhold, but it will probably take on its own life and go to town. Translations will be in the end notes. I am going to try to use as little elven as possible. It's really slowing down my other story.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When she was little, her magic sparked and twisted, calling from the Fade all manner of creature and construct; some never seen before. She grew just as wild as her magic and her clan quickly became cautious of her, if not fearful. She took great comfort in her dreams and her brother. She learned from her keeper to control the magic, just as all Dalish do, however she knew she would never be a keeper herself. The Clan wanted to send her to a circle, against tradition and lore. Her brother, twice as old as she, convinced them to let her stay. With their parents guided by Falon’din, to be with their ancestors, she was all the blood he had left.  </p><p>Da’fen, her brother called her, and she rarely answered to anything else. The name her mother had given her was Lasa'las and it meant little to her now. The wood was her sanctuary and her brother, Sul'las, her only visitor. Her clan tolerated her, and she did her best to stay away from them. The creatures of her dreams were not the only friends she had made, but the inhabitants of the wood accepted her as their own. For a time, she followed around by a small wolf pack, before the clan moved on. This was the place her name Da’fen, was given. She had been barely eight years old.  </p><p>At thirteen her brother carved her an idol of Fen’harel to wear about her neck. “A solitary Wolf god, for my solitary wolf sister.” He had said when he gifted it to her on her name day. Fen'Harel ma ghilana, “the dread wolf guides you”, carved on the back. He made her promise not to tell the other members of their clan; such a thing was blasphemy. They were taught to respect Fen’farel as a member of the pantheon, but to be cautious of him. She related to him more than any other god. She even asked Sul’las if he had a vallaslin she could take, to honor him for he made her feel connected to The People like nothing else. There was not, and she eyed his for Andruil. That would be the one she would take, when the day came. She would match her brother. He’d smile at those words and shook his head, reminding her to pick the one that speaks to her; there was time.  </p><p>The clan was moving when word of the Mage and Templar rebellion reached them. Another Clan fleeing the chaos to avoid their few mages from being targeted. Her clan with their eyes locked on her, knowing her wild hot-headed nature could bring them the most trouble. Quietly they slipped into the woods deeper and deeper to avoid the conflict, with few venturing out for word from the world. This was where they were, when news of the conclave reached them. Their keeper, wished to know exactly what would come out of the meeting for peace. Sul’las the most balanced and calm of the clan was chosen to go, and he would not leave Da’fen behind, knowing that if the chance presented itself, the clan would give her to someone better suited to her needs.  </p><p>She knew that they could not match her wants and needs. She was too self-centered and questioned too much to fit with their clan. So, at sixteen her ventured across the marshes to the temple of ashes, with only her brother at her side. She would look back at those brief weeks with such longing and love years later; it was the happiest she had ever been.   </p><p> </p><p>8;8;8;8;8;8;8;8 </p><p> </p><p>The first thing she noticed when opening her eyes, were the men pointing swords at her, and a human woman with short black hair demanding answers for the conclave. Her brother flashed before her eyes, smiling as they wandered the temple admiring all those there, templar, clerics, and mages alike. She remembered a strange dark place, a glowing figure pulling her up, and then the room with the men and demanding woman. She told the woman this, ignoring the way she glared in disbelieve.  </p><p>“They’re all dead?” Her voice cracked, her brother was there, Sul’las. She struggled against tears, “My brother...” There was silence. “Sul’las, where is Sul’las!” Panicked she yanked on the chains, magic snapping around her, before another woman joined them. Speaking in soft tones, she pulled her from the fear and panic. Leliana, she was called and the air around her was unique and calming.  </p><p>“There is someone, such named, helping to fight the rifts.” They needed her for something, and she was left alone with Cassandra again. She unclipped her from the floor and dragged her to her feet, the warriors around her, took steps back as she glared. She asked what had happened, how could everyone be dead. She would show her. </p><p>She stared at the sky, the Fade and its creatures pouring onto Thedas. She feared for them. Spirits ripped from their home, would not be what they were. Cassandra pushed her forward, explaining the explosion and the Demons falling from the sky. The shemlen were blaming her; she found she didn’t care. They always would blame the elf. She cried softly for the spirits falling from the sky. </p><p>“You’re our only hope to close it.” Cassandra’s voice cut through her tears, giving her hope. Like her name. Lasa’las means to give hope. She sniffed, Sul’las would want her to help, to heal the sky, as would many spirits she knew. Nodding her consent, Cassandra removed her shackles. The trek was blocked by demons and blowing up bridges, but they came out alive. Her found staff felt wrong in her hands, after the one carved especially for her, by her clan’s craftsmen. A shemlen creation was never the same as those created by the Dalish. She paused listening to the fighting somewhere ahead and above them. The closest rift, Cassandra declared, and she started to run. Lasa’las joined her a bit farther back, not wanting to draw attention before she wanted to.  </p><p>There were a few soldiers similar to the ones pointing swords before; a rogue dwarf with a crossbow, and an elf mage. She glanced behind her and thought for a moment to flee, but if Sul’las was ahead, she needed to find him. She joined the battle, doing her best to stay out of direct fighting and assist only. The monsters were cleared away, and the other elf moved toward her, a strange familiarity and relief on his face.  </p><p>“Quickly!” Too surprised to fight him, he grabbed her hand and shoved it toward the rift in front of them. She snatched her hand back, glaring at him. She wanted to find her brother. Introductions were in order and she learned the names of her companions. Varric the rogue dwarf and Solas the mage elf. She took in a deep breath. </p><p>“Solas?” She snapped her eyes back to Cassandra, this was not who Leliana meant, was it? Cassandra nodded and agreed that it was strange that if Solas was her brother, he did not say so during her days unconscious. Her brother was dead; just like everyone else at the conclave. The others remained silent for a moment, knowing that one wrong word and the girl would breakdown. They did not have time for it. “Lasa’las... that’s my name... it’s... aneth ara.” Her voice cracked. She had thought about using the name given to her by her brother, but she wanted to keep him to herself in any way she could. She gripped her idol through her robes and in a fit of rage and sorrow, ripped it from her neck and threw it as far as she could. “Ar juean u! Fel'ala Fen'harel varan em!” She screamed when the idol was lost to sight. </p><p>The pain could wait, the rifts however could not. Da’fen’s eyes remained locked at the last place she saw the hand-carved idol, regret filling her veins, fresh tears her eyes.  Cassandra looked torn as she started toward their path glancing once toward the idol she had thrown. Varric nodded slowly and gave her words of encouragement that surprisingly warmed her heart. She sniffed, running her hands through her hair, and with a last look in the direction of the idol, she followed them. Solas joined them a few moments later, looking at her thoughtfully. The conversation was dead, bog dead, if it had a smell it would have been decaying corpses soaking in the standing water of a pool used by man and animal to relieve themselves. Varric could not stand it. He quietly pulled a handkerchief out his pockets and sided up close enough to hand it to her on the sly. She smiled for the first time. </p><p>“Thank you.” Her voice shook a little, but had cleared since her outburst earlier. </p><p>“This is all very overwhelming; shit is falling out of the sky.” His voice was calming. Cassandra scoffed letting him know he was allowed to leave, since he could no longer tell his story to the Divine. Varric reiterated that she needed all the help she could get, him included. Lasa’las laughed softly when he launched into the story of how Cassandra had imprisoned him to hear the story of the Champion of Kirkwall.  </p><p>Another rift closed and they were through a gate. The people here were not glaring at her so openly. This she thought must have to do with the rift being closed. Leliana was standing with an older cleric, who was red faced and demanding their retreat and her arrest.  </p><p>“What would you have us do?” Lasa’las glanced up and noticed everyone staring at her. She squirmed, unused to the attention. The mountain path, because she thought, it would require her to interact with fewer people. Ladders, caves, demons, and another rift. The scouting group thanked her, but the looks were there. She was short for her age, just over five feet with doe brown eyes and tan skin from a life outside. Her hair was sun bleached. Her hand throbbed and she felt to the ground in pain. It passed quickly, and the scouts were gone. She flexed her anchored hand, hating it. They continued the climb to the giant hole in the sky. </p><p>“You are dalish, are you not?” Solas’s voice surprised them all and they stopped to look at him. He continued, when she nodded, not bothered by their reaction. “But you do not have Vallaslin.” She nodded again. Explaining as they continued walking that she had not gone through the ceremony yet. He asked a few more questions about her age and why she had not. She told him her age, but dodged the rest of them, keeping her eyes down. She felt ashamed, a failure as a Dalish elf and now with Sul’las gone, she lost her clan as well. She had a moment to think about why that bothered her, before the temple came into view. The burnt bodies, the strange glow, and the smell, she’d forget none of it.  </p><p>The first rift according to Solas might seal the breach. She got caught up on the word might, and missed the rest. With an annoyed growl she began the trek to the ground floor, to open the first rift and hopefully close the breach. The silence had returned and the small group stood front and center with Leliana’s soldiers on the sides, ready to fight any demons that came out of the rift. A pride demon, large and powerful emerged immediately and the battle began. She felt the pull of the anchor, and the drain on her mana. The fight seemed without end, and just as suddenly as it started it was over. Someone screaming for her to close the rift. The pain that shot up her arm caused her to scream, she could hear panicked voices behind her, and she wanted to stop. Growling back another scream she pressed forward and felt something snap back into place, before blacking out.  </p><p> </p><p>8;8;8;8;8;8;8;8;8;8;8 </p><p> </p><p>She opened her eyes at the sound of someone entering. A box hitting the floor caused her to turn and look at the woman who entered. After a scrambled conversation she left and Lasa’las had a new name. Herald of Andraste. She laughed thinking how her clan would react to people saying her was a herald of a prophet not even of her own gods. Standing with a sigh, she mourned her brother, regretted throwing away the idol in a fit of emotion, and with more than anything that Sul’las was here instead of her. He was the one made to be a hero. She never fit in, never belonged; this wouldn’t help. She’d always be a part from it all. She shifted on her feet, wondering what Cassandra would want from her. She sealed the breach, didn’t she? It stopped expanding, surely, she was not needed anymore.  </p><p>She glanced at the closed windows and huffed when she couldn’t open any of them. So much for running. She opened the door slowly and almost screamed in shock at the people gathered outside, some kneeling, some standing, but they were all pray. Quickly she stepped out and asked which way to the chantry. A woman in a uniform for the chantry guided her. There were more rifts, the breach wasn’t closed, and the chantry refused to support them. She paced as they spoke, unable to stand still. This was too much. She wasn’t a herald, or a hero, or a leader. She was a lone wolf without a pack. Her brother’s voice cut through herself description.  </p><p>“Da’fen,  you aren’t a lone wolf,  you just haven’t found your pack yet.” Maybe... maybe she’d find them here. She took a breath and decided to help them, to use this boon from Andraste or the Creators or the Maker. It didn’t matter; she was there when they needed her, and she would do whatever she could.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>translations;<br/>Ar juean u! Fel'ala Fen'harel varan em = I will be alone! Even, The Dread Wolf abandons me!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The first true night Lasa'las has trouble sleeping, and when she is finally able to sleep; the Fade in Haven shows her the Warden at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am really enjoying writing this story. Once again there is no set updating schedule, I'm just writing as the inspiration takes over. Enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> stared at the ceiling of her private house that she had been given. The cold night was lonely. All her life she slept in the </span>
  <span>Aravels</span>
  <span> with her clan, and on the way to the Conclave she had her brother. But now, now she was alone, cold, and frightened. She couldn’t tell if the air was freezing or she was just so used to the heat of others she wasn’t prepared. Frowning she sat up, looking out into the dark sky deciding that she needed to move. She hoped this would both warm her up, and burn off her energy and fear. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She gasped uncomfortable when her feet touched the floor. She doubted she would ever become accustom to </span>
  <span>shemlen</span>
  <span> flooring. She grumbled as she wrapped each foot with the leather bindings she still had when she fell out of the Fade. She tried to braid her hair out of her face, and failed. </span>
  <span>Sul’las</span>
  <span> usually helped her. Her shoulders sagged and the air grew colder. Standing, </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> gave a final look at her bed before opening the door slowly, hoping there wasn’t a mob outside to see. She took her first step out into the snow and was surprised at how much warmer outside felt. The air kissed her skin softly and in comfort rather than the biting chill of her house. There were a few fires going around Haven, with a few people standing around all but one. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She eased her way toward it quietly, not wanting to draw any attention to herself. There was a wood pile set up nearby and she got the fire going strong again. The fire shifted and danced for her, like an old friend. Elements always liked her, especially fire. Water tended to be a bit more unyielding when she used it. She stared at the twisting flames and thought about her clan. They would all be singing and talking around her, filling the air with their companionship and warmth; she felt it too, even if she rarely participated. She thought about the prayer the Keeper would say before he lit the fire and after it was put out. Thanking </span>
  <span>Sylaise</span>
  <span> for the hearth and fire. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The Creators; she wondered about, not for the first time. They were said to benevolent gifting the elves with things like fire and the halla. She wondered if they were gifts, why did they have to constantly thank them for it. Why did they ask the elves for tokens and worship? Why do the Shem have all the same things? Blasphemy; her could hear her Keeper’s answer to her questions. She shouldn’t question, but </span>
  <span>Sul’las</span>
  <span> always answered her questions, even if he had to say he didn’t know. She sank into herself sitting in the snow, head buried between her knees, and her arms wrapped tightly around her legs. She missed the familiar. She missed her clan. She missed the </span>
  <span>Aravels</span>
  <span> and the </span>
  <span>halla</span>
  <span>. She missed her brother. Closing her eyes, she tried to absorb the warmth of the fire into her heart.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, what are you doing up?” She lifted her head enough to see Varric standing there. He had clearly come from the pub, smelling of smoke and ale. She scoffed and placed her head back ignoring him. A child of the stone was of no use to her melancholy. He took her silence as an invitation to sit. They sat that way for more moments then she could count, before she started talking. Maybe it was because she wanted to tell someone her troubles, maybe it was because she wanted someone to understand, or maybe find a friend; Varric had a way of getting people to speak.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She told him of </span>
  <span>Sul’las</span>
  <span> and their trip from the Free Marshes. How they found a hot spring behind a waterfall deep in a cave, and stayed there for two night. She laughed when she told him of </span>
  <span>Sul’las</span>
  <span> posing near the bottom of the mountain holding the Temple aloft on his shoulders, so she’d laugh. She had been afraid of the Templars as they neared it, and he wanted to reassure her not be to. She tugged on her hair; she couldn’t braid it properly, because she loved when he braided it for her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She told him of her doubts in the gifts of the Creators. Gifts do not come with a price; she didn’t know what they should be called, but not gifts, never gifts. She replied when he asked what she would like them to be called. He was solemn, agreeing with her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She told him how </span>
  <span>Sul’las</span>
  <span> had chosen </span>
  <span>Andruil</span>
  <span> for his </span>
  <span>Vallaslin</span>
  <span> because he loved the hunt. She sniffed when she told him how every year her Keeper would tell her she wasn’t ready to bear the honor of the </span>
  <span>Vallaslin</span>
  <span> herself. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Varric through all of this nodded, smiled, and laughed when appropriate. When she remained silent for a few moments he asked his question again.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“My clan sleeps all together in our </span>
  <span>Aravels</span>
  <span>.” She sighed her emotions having run their course. “This place is strange...” She placed her hands over where the idol used to sit against her skin. “</span>
  <span>Fen'Harel</span>
  
  <span>em</span>
  
  <span>ghilana</span>
  <span>.” She whispered quietly to herself. Varric hearing, but understanding that she didn’t want to talk about the phrase, remained silent. “I should not have thrown away my idol.” She spoke softly, but looked at him when she said it. He asked if she’d like to go look for it tomorrow when the run rose. She nodded slowly, glazing in the direction she knew Solas to be. Nothing here was familiar, but him. He was like her people, and she felt a kindred spirit in him. Both Elven Mages, both alone; but that was where the similarity ended.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She sunk into herself again, tightly in a ball, wanting the world to disappear. Varric stood long enough to put more wood on the fire and then sat back down.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you want to tell me about this idol? I can assume it isn’t of one of your Creators?” She snorted, biting her lip, holding back a smile. The idol while a gift from her brother, it also added a jest at her Keeper and the Creators. If </span>
  <span>Fen’Harel</span>
  <span> was still around, her brother said, he would enjoy her small bit of trickery. Varric smiled, “That is a story I’d like to hear.” She frowned, looking toward where Solas was one more time, not wanting to anger the other Elven. He might not be </span>
  <span>Dalish</span>
  <span>, but that does not mean he doesn’t believe in the Creators.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head, glaring at the fire. Maybe another time. Varric put up his hands in mock defeat and enjoyed the lighter companionable silence that filled the air. She gazed up at the ever-rising moon and with a deep sigh, announced her retirement.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Varric stood with her, but continued to stare thoughtfully at the fire before speaking, “You aren’t alone in this, </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span>. We are here with you.” She didn’t look back, but nodded. Her house was just as cold; she started a fire in the hearth. She removed her leather binds and climbed into bed, finding sleep easier.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Haven looked different, </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Shemlens</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> everywhere, the buildings were arranged differently, but there was the temple. Frowning, she started toward it. Spirit showed two realities happened at once, one where the people of the town were protecting the temple and the reborn Andraste, in the form of a High Dragon. Another where the visiting group, fought through a manic cult to save a life, a</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>nd</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> eventually a kingdom. She crept through the halls, watching silently as a group of four clashed against the ones protecting the temple. Slowly she climbed, watching the four defeat the dragon, and enter the top guarded by another. She gazed around as they answered riddles and gained access to the inter-sanctum. Andraste’s ashes. She watched as the woman leading the group grabbed a pinch and left the rest. She wondered why she hadn’t placed the blood like the people protecting the temple asked.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hello.” She turned, not expecting anyone to be there. Solas stood in front of her, thoughtfully gazing at her presence. When she didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>speak,</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> he moved his eyes around the temple scene. “I did not think the mark would let you dream so clearly.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ve always dreamed this way.” She snapped at him, feeling annoyed at him interrupting her dream. “Is this the Hero of Ferelden?” She moved closer and watched as the Warden took the pinch and left the ashes untouched. “I heard she came to this place. Strange to think we probably walked the same path... someone so...” She couldn’t find the words to describe it. She was a hero who saved not just Ferelden, but the world from the Fifth Blight. She touched so many places, made choices that still shake the world. “Have you seen many of her adventures?” Solas looked at her with a small knowing smile, before </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>answering</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> her question.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I dreamt at </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Ostagar</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>.” She gasped and watched him with baited breath. She would love to see such a historical event. “I witnessed the brutality of the Darkspawn and the valor of the Ferelden warriors.” She paled, knowing what would happen but enthralled all the same. Her clan told stories, but nothing she knew for certain happened. “I saw Alistair and the Hero of Ferelden light the signal fire... and </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Loghain’s</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> infamous betray of Cailan’s forces.” Everyone knew the stories, she knew the Fade reflected the mortal realm, and was not always accurate. The spirits react to emotions of the ones present and that changes what is shown. Still, it was probably a sight to see.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’d like to dream in places, to see and experience more...” She gazed back toward the ashes, now alone, as the Warden and her group left the temple. “... maybe learn more of my people’s history...” She shifted feeling uncomfortable with the silence, but unsure where Solas stood with her people. He did not have </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>vallaslin</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>, so it was unlikely he was Dalish. The calm about him, reminded her of the Keepers of her clan and others. “My Keeper would tell us stories around the fires at night... stories of the Creators...” She looked down, feeling the pressure of the air, and wishing that he would leave her in peace.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It is a fool’s path to blindly trust what you are told without question.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “Why is it that you do not have </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>vallaslin</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>? I understood this happened when </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Dalish</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> are young.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I...” She looked at him, eyes locked and thought about telling him the story only, she and her Keeper now knew. She settled for the lie. “My Keeper said I was not ready.” She looked away face red, feeling the shame of the past. It was not wrong for her to wait until she was ready, but her age was very unusual. </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Sul’las</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> reassured her that nothing was wrong, but the feeling still remained. The shame like always gave way to anger. “You think so little of the </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Dalish</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>, what do you care of my face?” Her voice echoed through the empty room as she lashed out. She stood straighter, glaring at him as the Fade reacted to her emotions, twisting. </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She expected to see anger, sadness, maybe pity, not understanding. It reflected in his eyes the emotion on the surface more so because they were in the Fade. She wanted him to hate her suddenly; she didn’t want understanding. What was she supposed to do with that? No one understood her. </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Sul’las</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> loved her, but he couldn’t understand. He wasn’t a mage; he was always seen as a voice of reason and calm. While she was volatile and quick to anger. She wanted out of this dream, away from him.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She sat up in bed, head spinning from her abrupt exit. She could still feel the rage, but it lay beneath her surprise and confusion. She never left a dream without wanting to, had he pushed her from it? Or did she leave unconsciously? She had never before encountered another person in the Fade before, maybe he was stronger than her. She shook her head, clearing the thought; it didn’t matter. If he could manipulate the her in the Fade, what did that mean? He was older, but that didn’t equate to stronger. Her keeper was much older and he could not win against her in a fight. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span>?” Leliana’s voice cut through the morning and her thoughts; a knock on the door followed. Lasa’las stepped out of bed and told her to come in. The human rogue entered gracefully a soft smile on her face. “How did you fair your first night? The mountain can be cold for ones who are unused to it.” Lasa’las sat on the bed, pulling her legs off the floor and crossed them. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“As well as I could...” She tried answering vaguely like her brother taught her to do when dealing with strangers. She had never been very good at it, more incline to speak first and think later. Leliana nodded thoughtfully, and allowed her smile to grow even warmer.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“If you can think of anything that would be of help to you, please let me know.” She looked around the room, thoughtfully. “We have sent word to your clan, perhaps someone may be able to come and...”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“NO!” She was off the bed, face red with a mix of rage and fear locked on Leliana. “No.... I don’t... my clan wont... be of help to me.” Her anger faded into embarrassment as she looked down, not wanting to see the pity her knew would be there. A </span>
  <span>Dalish</span>
  <span> elf not wanting her clan; it always brought out pity. Leliana for her part, did not waver at her outburst or following silence; rather she continued to offer comfort where she could. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> looked up after a few moments, and swallowed nervously as Leliana nodded in understanding.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I did not get on well with my family either.” She reached out a soft hand and lightly began braiding her hair in the way it was when she emerged from the breach. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> didn’t fight her, shaking with the effort not to cry. These past few days had been nothing sort of a nightmare. Her emotions, which were normally a bit erratic, were now as wild as the wind. The air chilled around her, her magic reaching out. If she noticed Leliana didn’t acknowledge it. “Now, let us get something to eat, then we will be meeting the others.” </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> looked at Leliana’s warm face and nodded, reaching for her leather bindings.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Once she was dressed, they headed outside, and Leliana led her toward a fire with a few others eating around it. Varric wished her good morning, and the rest of the group followed suit, as if they were waiting for someone else to show them what to do. She wanted to laugh, these Shemlen who not a week ago would sooner eat away from a fire than near her, were in awe of her now. Her keeper was right about one thing, Faith was powerful. Leliana nodded for her to stay, and left to get their breakfast. From the look of the others, would be a gruel of some sort. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s better than it looks.” one of the soldiers whispered to her. She smiled, and he smiled back. It made her feel for a moment like she belonged.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t listen to him, this is like hot water with a bit of oat in it.” Another man spoke to the first, having heard, even the whisper.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Speak for yourself! The cook put a bit of some sort of meat in mine!” Everyone laughed. She felt her face heat a little bit, not knowing how to stay in the </span>
  <span>conversation</span>
  <span>, and not really sure if she wanted to.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably poison. You did accost her yesterday.” Varric added over the noise of comments about breakfast. More laughter.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nice to be eating, while not being surrounded by demons.” This voice was over the rest, and everyone became silent in that moment, every eye was on her; some were less obvious than others. She looked down; her hands tight in her lap. The fire cracked loudly in a flash of reds and blues. Everyone’s eyes shifted and she ran.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Oops.” Varric’s voice followed her, and he took the blame for the explosion she had caused. It didn’t hurt anyone, but was certainly a surprise. She climbed a pine tree, half buried by snow, and hid among its branches and needles. Leliana found her there a few moments later and without saying a word handed her a bowl of the gruel, joining her among the branches. In a companionable silence they ate their food together. </span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Fen'Harel   em   ghilana = the dread wolf guides me</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Fen'Harel em ghilana</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In which The Dread Wolf finds a rebellious Follower</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> gazed out the window of the Chantry building as Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen discussed the future of the Inquisition. She had abandoned her accepted help to look for her idol, deciding she would rather go alone. A few days had passed since then, and she had yet to find a moment to slip away unnoticed. It would snow tonight a few locals informed her over breakfast this morning. She would have to look before, or the chances of finding it would be a faction of what it was.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span>?” Leliana’s voice cut through her thoughts, pulling her back to the Chantry, responsibility, and duty. “Mother Giselle is our best bet of receiving help closing the Breach.” She must have repeated herself, because the others were looking at her with a strange unease. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> let her eyes close, fighting back the emotions that came with knowing the weight of the world on her shoulders.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I will do what needs to be done.” She tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I will go and see this Mother Giselle.” The relief that settled in the air, eased her beating heart. She wanted to do her best, no matter what. “We will leave first thing tomorrow.” Turning away from her council, she left the Chantry, still uncomfortable with the Shemlen’s religion. The snow crunched beneath her leather wrapped feet. Several attempts were made to encourage her to wear boots. They wanted her look apart of the Faithful gathering around her. But she was not, and did not wish to be. She was set apart from them, just as she was from her Clan and the </span>
  <span>Dalish</span>
  <span>. Her </span>
  <span>Dalish</span>
  <span> attire kept her warm and provided her with some familiarity in her constantly changing circumstances. She would be hard pressed to give them up without a fight. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span>...” Varric called her over to a fire he stood by alone. “Any news?” Varric was an odd addition to the Faithful. He continued to try to open her up more to himself and the others. He wanted to help her and seemed to think that meant belonging here. She couldn’t hold it against him, she had not told him otherwise. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“We are heading out tomorrow... a Mother Giselle... wants to speak with me.” She let the words trail off, looking away, hoping he would take the hint and leave her be. She looked back when he let out a heavy sigh, eyes locked on her thoughtfully. She let the warmth of his care seep into her gut, making her feel guilty. Varric had been nothing but kind since she arrived. The Dwarf nodded, turning back to the fire, giving her an out. Slowly she walked away, each crunch of her steps deepening the guilt. She exited Haven and walked quickly by the Smithy hunched slightly, hoping no one else would speak to her. The snow continued to crunch accusing her everything she kept inside. Once out of sight of Haven, she ran, huffing as the cold air made it harder and harder to breath, tears rushing down her face.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She stopped slowly climbing the last slope to the place of the first rift she had closed. She fisted her hands into her sides, breathing deep, trying to force the tears to stop. Quieting her sorrow, fear, and guilt, she stepped into the ruined building. She looked for hours, digging through snow, grass, and ruin. It was truly lost. She sat down against a half wall, swallowing the feelings swelling up. She felt the icy air creep in, burying her in the empty cold of her regrets and loneliness. </span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The cold gave way to a voice. “</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Da’fen</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>, what happened?” </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Sul’las</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> was kneeling in front of her, face soft, a small smile forming a warm expression. She watched him flinch when the cold air whipped around, striking him in the face. “I’m here. </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Ar</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> lath ma </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Da’fen</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>. Come back to me.” His hands cupped her face softly. She wanted to pull away, he was too warm. “Stay with me.” She sniffled letting the pain and fear wash away at his warm words and kind touch. </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Lasa’las</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder. </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I can’t... I ‘m not good enough...” She struggled to speak her fears, alone, she would be alone. He held her closer, pulling her tightly into her chest. Even his warmth couldn’t pierce the cold soaking into her. Everywhere around her was white, the cold air around her turning into a storm. A memory, she blinked, pulling away long enough to see her brother’s face, the same expression. “This... this isn’t...” She sobbed as he vanished into the Fade. The idol she had been looking for taking his place in front of her. She picked it up slowly, remembering how good it made her feel after having been denied the </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>Vallaslin</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>. She wanted to feel connected, but she would give up herself for it. The Idol let as cold as she did, a poor replacement for flesh and blood of family. She allowed herself to sink into the feeling of emptiness, her e</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>yes</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span> shut.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Breath Da’len.” A voice pulled her from the cold, and she blinked awake. The air was still cold, but not the empty icy cold of before. A storm was beginning around her. “Breath.” A warmth was spreading from her heart to her limbs. She tried to sit up, but was pushed down by the one speaking. She settled back down letting her eyes close when the voice called her back. “Stay here.” A command. More words of encouragement filled the air and she fully opened her eyes. Solas had his eyes locked on hers, his hands pressed firmly against her, pulsing warmth into her blood. She felt the cold dissipate replaced, with an embarred anger. How had he found her? Before she could </span>
  <span>speak,</span>
  <span> he stood up, gesturing for her to stand. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you here?” Her voice was laced with accusation eyes glaring at the bold elf. He </span>
  <span>snorted;</span>
  <span> arms crossed as if he was dealing with a child.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You should not be away from Haven alone.” His voice was filled with authority, daring her to argue.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I do not need your permission!” She snarled, the air freezing against her now heated skin. Rage crackled against her skin, her power calling forth magic. Solas watched her and with a sigh he dropped his arms. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You could have died.” His words had a sobering effect. Her anger drained, remembering the dream in the Fade. She glared, arms crossed, and looked around them. The sky was dark, and snow was falling. How long had she been out </span>
  <span>here?</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I was just looking for...” She cut herself off. She didn’t owe him an </span>
  <span>explanation</span>
  <span>. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“This?” He held up her idol, the head of a wolf carefully carved into a piece of Heartwood swinging lightly on the leather string. </span>
  <span>Fen'Harel ma </span>
  <span>ghilana</span>
  <span> carved on the back. She gasped and reached for it; relief flooding her senses once the wood was gripped in her hands. “Fen'Harel ma </span>
  <span>ghilana</span>
  <span>?” His voice was soft, curious, the earlier anger gone. She locked eyes with him; she could see the questions. She felt the usual emotions flood her. Her Clan would never understand. A rebellious thought entered her mind, they didn’t matter anymore. With </span>
  <span>Sul’las</span>
  <span> gone, they’d never accept her anyway. She took a breath and suddenly didn’t want to hide anymore what she thought.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Fen’harel.... he is the only Creator I... I... I connect with.” She spoke quietly while looking down, hoping he couldn’t hear her. Despite her feelings, she didn’t want to be rejected by the only familiar presence in Haven. When she looked up several moments later, there was nothing but surprise on his face. He tipped his head slightly, an encouragement for her to continue. She let the truth gush with her words. A tidal wave of opinion and views, things she never told anyone other than Sul’las. The hypocritical nature of the Creators, in her eyes, the endless questions and lies she had spoken and saw. “What are Gifts with a price?” She took a breath, watching as he took in her tidal wave of thoughts and opinions. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You are </span>
  <span>Dalish</span>
  <span>?” His voice was as soft as hers, a questioning tone to his statement. “You... do not...” He seemed at a loss of words. “The Dread Wolf did... not wish for worshipers.” His voice broke slightly.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Fen'Harel </span>
  <span>em</span>
  
  <span>ghilana</span>
  <span>.” She spoke clearly and with conviction. “I do not worship him.” That was splitting hairs, her Keeper would say. When following the Dread Wolf, you are his agent to do with as he pleased. Solas had a light blush forming and with a brief nodded, began the trail to return to Haven. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> smiled. He didn’t reject her. She placed the idol around her neck, and with a giddy hop she followed him, a smile splitting her face. Solas did not speak the rest of the journey to Haven, but he watched her with a warmth that wasn’t there before.</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>:&amp;:&amp;:&amp;:&amp;:&amp;</span>
  
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Scout Harding had an openness about her that put </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> at ease. There was no judgement just quiet thoughtfulness. It was a refreshing change from Haven, where people were either in awe or hated her on principle. Chancellor Roderick leading the second camp, was making her life particularly difficult. He had left to Val </span>
  <span>Royeaux</span>
  <span> long enough to have her declared a Heretic and the Inquisition for standing with her. She had caused the fire lanterns to flash in frustration when she heard his opinion of her. She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to have Believers from a Faith not even her own, following her, like the second coming of Andraste. If she had her way, her brother would be alive and they would live on the road to the Conclave for the rest of their lives. She remembered growling and Cullen taking a step back, hand on his sword. Cassandra watched her wearily, but kept her hand away from her weapon. Leliana placed a soft hand on her shoulder, calming the storm.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Her emotions were worse now, anger had always been the first response, but she would overcome it quickly. Now, now it was her constant, the demands on her by people who would have her made tranquil. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sundered from the Fade</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she shivered at the thought. She took comfort as Harding spoke to her like an equal. She knew she would get along great with the surface dwarf. Solas, Cassandra, and Varric stood behind her quietly, listening to the report. Mages and Templars killing each other and abusing the populace without restrained. The main part of the Mage rebellion was held up in Redcliffe. While the Templars had retreated to a fort </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> didn’t catch the name of. The ones here were rogues even to the rebellion on both sides. Mother Giselle was waiting for her in the town below. Scout Harding walked away to join the other scouts and prepare to move as needed. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“How you doing?” Varric asked her as she led them down a foot path away from the camp. She snorted how well did he expect her to be; saving a world that thought her worth nothing. Cassandra stayed toward the front, ready to protect their group. Solas and Varric took up the rear with </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> in the middle. They were ready to protect her from any threat; it unsettled her to have even this faw care enough to stand with her. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I am...” She bit her lip and stopped walking, gazing out at the destruction of the homes before them. “Shit.” Cassandra yelled a warning and the fighting began. Their group quickly dispatched the attacking Mages and Templars, leaving the path to Mother Giselle clear. She kept her head down as they walked through the town and met with Mother Giselle helping injured and refugees. Her companions looked around as the scouts and soldiers placed banners and stand guard around the newly cleared areas. She followed Cassandra as the approached a Chantry woman. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> was not familiar enough with the religion to place the station of her. Cassandra stepped aside gesturing for </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> to move closer. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You are the one they are calling the Herald of Andraste.” </span>
  
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Translations: <br/>Ar lath ma = I love you <br/>Fen'Harel ma ghilana = the Dread Wolf Guides You <br/>Fen'Harel em ghilana = the Dread Wolf Guides me </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Iron Bull</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Enter The Iron Bull</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Haven't forgotten about this story! Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>To say Lasa’las was comfortable in the little town of Haven, surrounded by the Faithful would be a lie. However, to say she was more comfortable than she was in the beginning, would be correct. She had found a balance of being here with strangers who saw her as something she was certainly not, as well as a false Herald. She had not asked for this, and she would never.</p><p>Opening up to Solas gave her someone to speak with about her doubt. He was much like Sul’las and let her speak, asking questions, and being open to her thoughts and feelings. He would poke holes in her thoughts, giving a spring board to grow from. He understood her in a way she thought only Sul’las ever would. </p><p>Varric accepted her, even if he did not understand her. He wanted her to be who she wanted to be and supported that part of herself. He would not allow anyone to speak ill of her while she was away and made a point include her in everything he could. He would always ask, and was never upset when she said no. He was different from Solas because he never encouraged her to speak, question, or think of herself as an evolving self. She could stay just the way she was or change, either way he was there for it all. </p><p>“We are not who we were ten years prior. Why should we not look of ourselves as ever changing?” </p><p>Solas had wanted to get her to let go of her belief that she was a temperamental child, who could hurt anyone if she was not in control. Solas thought she was so volatile because she listened to others who told her this was the case. The constant fear of oneself was the worst state a mage could be in. Especially one as powerful as herself. Solas made her meditate and took on a teaching role for her growth. She found herself calmer than she had ever been.  </p><p>He accompanied her into the Fade, showing her the world around them reflected by the Spirits. She found those moments to be of great comfort. She had never been able to share this part of herself with anyone. Sul’las knew she dreamed of another world in such clarity to give rise to the fear other felt from her. He would never be able to experience the Fade like she could. He would smile as she told stories of what she saw, beings she talked to. When he expressed concern of possession, she wished she had spoken to Solas before. It held no more temptation than a <em> brightly colored fruit </em>. A perfect way to describe the sheer absurdity of how she saw the attempts of Demons.  </p><p>Leliana was there to make sure she would not disappear into herself, and hide. She was patient and kind. She was able to strike that balance of push and let go, unlike anyone Lasa’las had encountered before. She understood that she was not ready to confront those who rallied others to kill her or worse make her Tranquil.   </p><p>Val’royeau had come and gone. The Templars abandoned the Chantry, leaving space for the newly formed Inquisition to maneuver. She now had a choice to make. Find the Mage rebellion or the newly liberated Templars. She was more inclined to focus on those like herself. However, she also knew that would mean possibly fighting against the Templars. She did not want to face such men and women on the battlefield. She was not a warrior, or a soldier. She was new to fighting more than the few times she sparred with her brother. She was not a hunter like her brother. He made sure she would never have to harm anyone or anything.  </p><p>Her mind drifted to her brother less and less as the days passed, and it was bothered her. She had a foundation of support that before had fallen on one other’s shoulders. Lasa’las sat awake on her bed more than once feeling thankful but also guilty. She had to lose her brother to achieve this. His memory, for the first time, had a shadow in her mind. She wondered if he would approve of her trusting so many others. There was a voice that told her, <em> no, he would not mind </em> . But there was a distant echo that whispered,  <em> he would </em>. He was a calm thoughtful person, but he also had seen the dark side of the world. He watched others mistreat and fear his sister, driving her to be unbalanced and afraid of herself. He would certainly warn her to wait for the eventual end, when their true colors would be revealed to her.  </p><p>The short walk to the Chantry that was working as their home base for planned seemed to drag on as she lost herself in her feelings of unease and sorrow. This was how she missed the strange standing in front of the doors, watching her walk up.  </p><p>“Good day, I have a message to deliver...” She eyes the taller man. His head was shaved on the sides and the top was longer. The armor he wore was clean, if a little older. She knew every face in the village, but he said he had a message; <em> a messenger then </em>. She frowned, pulled from her emotions for a moment, contemplating the stranger.  </p><p>“About...?” She tipped her head in question, happy to interact with someone who did not know who she was, or possible chose to ignore it. Either way she found herself liking this person. </p><p>“Forgive me. My name is Cremisius Aclassi, second-in-command of the mercenary group, Bull’s Chargers.” He stood straighter and a military stance. <em> A soldier turned mercenary, turned messenger </em>, she wondered what kind of life he had led to this point.  </p><p>“You can give it to me.” He nodded and relayed the messages. Iron Bull had intel and wanted to show off his team. She knew she could use as many allies as possible. Slowly she entered the Chantry after his departure. She needed to get to the Storm Coast. This was the first decision she made without input from anyone else. She would ask for the thoughts of both Cassandra and Leliana. However, this felt right. Like a hand was guiding her to where she was supposed to go. Clinging her Fen’harel necklace she gathered the three companions she had; Solas, Cassandra, and Varric. Maybe after this there would be a fourth. </p><p>The Storm Coast was cold and wet. She hated it. Grumbling to herself, she listened half-heartedly to Scout Harding’s report. She knew it was disrespectful, but couldn’t find the room in her to care. Cassandra tisked behind her, Solas smiled, and Varric listened. Information was important she knew; <em> Creators why was everything so hard. </em>  She would certainly hear about it all after the fact. She was bound to be the herald they united behind. A flag to bring soldiers and others to their cause. She did not want to be that important. She didn’t even think she could.  <em> Maybe if I just stood still and let others lead? </em> She had asked herself that many times, but it was not in her nature to stand down and follow. She blazed her own path. It was suddenly not just her path. </p><p>The beach was littered with Venatori and another group fighting them. This was how she met her first Qunari. Iron Bull was a tall, scary looking man. He must be double her size, not including the horns. She fought the urge to run, as she approached him. Cassandra could knock him out if need be. Probably, she tried to reassure herself. Standing toe to toe with the new face, left her with a feeling of hesitation. She was filled with doubt. There was no room to doubt. She thought back to one of the lessons she had with Solas.  </p><p>“Doubt leads to indecision, which can lead to a fatal loss of time. It is also the enemy of the mage. Do not let doubt cloud your mind Da’len. You will make mistakes, and there will be others there to help you through them. No one expects perfection.” </p><p>“So, you’ve seen my Chargers. Best in the business.” She listened to his praise and deal. What surprised her was that he was speaking to her. He knew somehow that she was the one in charge, or as in charge as a teenager can be of a growing international organization. She didn’t answer, but instead locked eyes with his horns, wondering how it would feel to be that tall. To stand above everyone else.  </p><p>“How tall are you?” The questions slipped out before she could think. He laughed, and she was thankful he wasn’t offended.  </p><p>“About average for a Qunari.” He laughed sitting down. She felt an uncontrollable urge to climb onto his shoulders. She used to ride on Sul’las’s shoulders would she was small. There was a sense of safety on the back of someone you trust. He certainly looked capable of smashing though everything that mattered.  </p><p><em> She was standing up to some of the boy around her age in the Clan. She had to look up. Even then she was so much shorter  </em> <em> than </em> <em>  everyone else. They had made a game of seeing who could get enough of rise out of her cause she to use magic. It was game that usually ended up with her in trouble with the Keeper.  </em> <em> Sul’las </em> <em>  was out hunting with a few of the others, that was when it was the worse. She felt rage bowling in her stomach; she wanted to hurt them. Maybe then they would leave her alone. The wind picked up, and the boys laughed. She was about to send them to the ground with force.  </em> Stop laughing <em>  she wanted to scream.  </em> </p><p><em> Strong warm hands gripped her under her arms and she expected to be thrown aside. Some of the adult used the shock from something like that, to force her to gain control again. Instead, she heard his laugh. He lifted her on to his shoulders. She gripped his braided hair and let the smile and joy of seeing her brother to banished the negative feelings. She giggled as he held her legs and swung her around, laughing. He was making a show of hopping from one leg to the other. She barely noticed his gaze of warning at the boys, or how they never bothered her in the same again.  </em> </p><p><em> “Vhalla'rla Sul’las!” </em> </p><p><em> “ </em> <em> Ma’shiral </em>  <em> emen </em>  <em> ha'lam </em> <em> ,  </em> <em> Da’fen. </em> <em> ” </em> </p><p>“Herald?” He drew her away from her thoughts. </p><p>“Da’fen...” She jolted like she had been electrocuted. She had not told anyone yet, the nickname her brother gave her. “I mean, Lasa’las. It means to give hope...” She was trying to distract from her slip. Cassandra didn’t seem to notice, or maybe did not want to make her uncomfortable. Varric cocked an eyebrow, promising questions later. Solas was looking away, loose posture, but his tense jaw spoke of him hearing the name slip. Knowing her view on the Creators, Solas would not have to think hard to see where the name came from. </p><p>“Appropriate.” Iron Bull smiled lightly, not understanding the slip and clearly decided to let it go. “Pick it yourself?” </p><p>“No, my mother’s family...” She took a breath, missing her for the first time since she was young. Her parents had died when she was very young, so she did not remember them. She didn’t miss her mother as a person, no she missed the idea of having a mother. Someone to care and comfort her. Someone she knew was on her side. The air chilled, reacting to her mood. She glanced at her companions, and let the feeling of loneliness go. It would do her no good. “My mother’s family had a tradition of using Las in names. My brother was Sul’las, for hope, and my mother was Da’las, little hope.” She stopped speaking, realizing she was chattering to overcome her own discomfort.  </p><p>Iron Bull nodded, taking the information and restating his desire to join her. She nodded, knowing that he would be a good addition to her group.  </p><p>:&amp;:&amp;:&amp;:&amp;:&amp; </p><p>“Da’fen?” Solas entered the house she had been giving, a soft question to his voice. She tried to not blush. She was not embarrassed of the name, she just had not expected to ever hear it again. </p><p>“My brother called me that.” She told him the story of the pack of wolves. Solas pieced together all the things she didn’t say. How she wanted the name to remain a part of her brother. </p><p>“If he is as you say, he would want you to be happy. To find your...” He smiled, there was a self-deprecating humor to it. She wasn’t sure why. “...Pack... Da’fen.” The nickname brought a smile to her face. She did not want to lose her brother and the memories around him, but Solas calling her the name she had always considered her name brought nothing but joy. They had struck a balance after he found out her views and accepted them.  </p><p>“Thank you.” He nodded and left her to her thoughts. She had a new companion, a new possible friend. This was only the beginning; she was sure of it.  </p><p>:&amp;:&amp;:&amp;:&amp;:&amp;: </p><p>Translations; </p><p><em> Vhalla'rla </em>  <em> Sul’las </em> <em>  = Welcome home Sul’las </em> </p><p><em> Ma’shiral </em>  <em> emen </em>  <em> ha'lam </em> <em> ,  </em> <em> Da’fen </em> <em>  = My journey is over, little wolf. </em> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Companions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Lasa'las finds more companions and tries a bit of Faith.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/n This chapter is a bit choppy in the plot. I skip some things and briefly mention others. I wanted to get to the plot points I intend to change rather than just writing what happens in the game. If you are reading this, I'm assuming you have played at least Inquisition. Thank you and enjoy! </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> stared up at the large estate she had been invited to. While in Val </span>
  <span>Royeaux</span>
  <span> she had received two invitations from unknowns. One was a series of red letters hidden around the city. She had thought it a fun little treasure hunt at first. However, she worried of where the letters would lead. The other had been handed to her by a messenger that assumed incorrectly that Solas was the Inquisitor. Apparently, the rumors were certain on elven mage, but the rest was a bit convoluted. She had a good laugh about it, and played the idiot when Solas tried to correct him. Varric had laughed along with her, as the elven mage rolled his eyes at her. In the end Cassandra accepted the message with a firm thank you. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Imperial Enchanter Vivienne de Fer wanted to meet with her, and to say she wasn’t a bit scared would be a lie. She was terrified. Cassandra, Varric, and Solas all accompanied her, but were told to remain outside. They were, after all, not invited to the party. The entry way was a marble, and unlike anything she had seen before. The Temple of Sacred Ashes was made of stone, revealing the age and style of its builders. This palace, or so she’d call it, was a place for kings and queens; not orphaned </span>
  <span>Dalish</span>
  <span> children.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The other guests were polite and seemed more interested in her as an exotic creature, than a living breathing person with thoughts and feelings. She was grateful none immediate approached her, wanting to watching her with unabashed eyes. She kept her head up and shoulders back. Leliana had told her she should be proud of what she represented. The power within her grasp was nothing to turn a nose at. The players of the game will recognize her as a power that she was or fall. Either would benefit the Inquisition.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Two Orlesian eventually approached her and asked questions about the Inquisition. More accurately, about her and to validify rumors. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> wished Varric was allowed in; he was better at this sort of thing then she was. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t fret, you don’t want to offend, and they don’t want to be offended.” His words of encouragement kept her from running away and actually speaking to the other guests. She was appalled as a man threatened her and was then frozen. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Vivienne was beautiful. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> had never seen anyone quite like her before. His life in her hands was scary and uncomfortable. It brought to the forefront of her mind, what the power she wields meant. She couldn’t bring herself to allow him to be killed. Quietly, Vivienne led her toward a separate hall and spoke to her as an equal. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>That was how Vivienne De Fer joined the Inquisition. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> was still in awe of the older mage, well after they returned to the main city, where they were staying for the night. The Red Jenny appointment was that night.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Sera was not at all what the </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> expected. She was a wild card that appeared to listen to every impulse without restraint. Sera could be found sitting in the bar, laughing and drinking with those present. She had reacted unimpressed when </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> turned out to be an elf. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Sera is running from what she is.” Solas had tried to explain to her when she asked. “Elves tend to either cling to the few ways that separate them from humans, or flee from it with haste.” </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> understood that to a point. Elves were seen as lesser than, and treated as such. She was the supposed Herald of Andraste, and still strangers called her Knife Ear. She wanted to be insulted. She knew that was their intension, but she only felt pity for them.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Hatred and mistreatment born from ignorance and acceptance of lies fed to them from society. She learned early on that questioning what she was told, would result in her isolation and a distaste for her by those she would normally call Kin. Acceptance was easier, weaker, more pathetic than anything else she saw. She would not be here, if she hadn’t questioned. She wondering who would have been the Herald if she had stayed with her Clan instead of accompanying </span>
  <span>Sul’las</span>
  <span>. Would </span>
  <span>Sul’las</span>
  <span> have been chosen in her place? He would do a much better job. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She would never forget the first time Varric heard a new arrival call her knife ear. He had Bianca in his hands before she even registered the words. The pilgrim found himself at the pointy end of a crossbow. She had stared in awe as every person present stood with Varric and informed the ignorant human that SHE was the Herald of Andraste and would be treated with respect. It had been the first time more than just her brother stood up for her. She didn’t think she was a Herald of Andraste, but Faith was powerful. Varric told her later, that she was a person deserving of respect, regardless if she was divine or not. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> was inclined to agree with him. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Vivienne kept to the chantry, and </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> lacked the courage to seek her out more than once. Their conversation left a bad taste in her mouth. She understood that the circles helped many. She knew several in the inquisition that would have starved or been killed for using magic, if the Templars hadn’t saved them, bringing them to a Mage Tower to learn and grow.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But she heard just as many stories of children being torn away from loving families. The abuse against the Mages was not something she would ever find as an acceptable </span>
  <span>consequence</span>
  <span> for the safety from the Mage, who were just people. Good and Bad came from everywhere. Elf, Human, Dwarf, </span>
  <span>Qunari</span>
  <span>; race didn’t matter, good and bad came from everywhere.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>It scared her how blind Vivienne was to situations different from her own. She wasn’t evil. The system worked for her. She was able to carve out a place of power and privilege, not many would have the ability or chance to do so. Vivienne was as locked in her belief as those who called her knife ear. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Magic was dangerous, that was true. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> could summon flame and ice, destroying and hurting others, but she didn’t. Knowledge was important. An ignorant Mage was a dangerous mage. Solas and Vivienne at least agreed on that. Those with power, need to learn how to use, or risk hurting others. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> was contemplating this revelation, while watching the minstrel preforming late at the bar, unofficially named the Herald’s Rest. Sera was beside her, having found a mutual love of watching others. Sera noticed far more than she did, and would relay the observations in a quiet voice, letting </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> in on the jokes. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Varric was with them as well, easily seeing that same things Sera did. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> never felt out of place while listening to her two companions exchange information in the weirdest ways. Sliding a mug half way across the table, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he’s not to be trusted</span>
  </em>
  <span> the gesture said</span>
  <em>
    <span>.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Bringing the ale to their lips without drinking eyes locked on an individual, </span>
  <em>
    <span>watch that one.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She found the strange dance, so appealing. A slight tip of the head and a smile, </span>
  <em>
    <span>she’s trustworthy.</span>
  </em>
  
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> wanted to learn how they gathered so much so quickly. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Iron Bull was similar, but also different. His eyes flitted around the room, seeing what she couldn’t. Unlike Sera and Varric, he didn’t share what he saw, rather keeping the knowledge to himself. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> was comfortable around Bull; he was large, but his way of talking and moving put her at ease. His mercenary group, The Bull’s Chargers, were another beast all together. She recognized the </span>
  <span>Dalish</span>
  <span> Mage who was pretending to not be one. The one who didn’t talk, </span>
  <span>Grimm.</span>
  
  <span>Krem</span>
  <span> was the one she saw and spoke to most often, the rest of the group kept to themselves. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Blackwall had been a surprise. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> knew little of the Grey Wardens, besides their fighting against the blight and the Hero of Ferelden was an Elf from Denerim’s Alienage. He had no idea where the Wardens had vanished too, but wanted to help. That was what she heard of the Wardens, they weren’t political, but were the only thing standing between the Darkspawn taking over the world. The Hero of Ferelden proved that. The Fifth blight had been the mildest, not leaving the Ferelden borders. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> could support protecting the world. After all, wasn’t that what she was doing now?</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Bull, Varric, and Solas were the three companions she took to meet with Grand Enchanter Fiona.  She had greeting them after the Templars left Val </span>
  <span>Royeaux</span>
  <span> unprotected. She had seemed as uncertain as </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> felt, but something needed to be done and done quickly. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> had debated whether to find the Mages or Templars for help with the Breach. She understood where Cullen stood. He was familiar with the Templars and felt a Kindred spirit with them. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> however had never liked the Templars, they were to be feared, for they could take her away from everything she knew and loved. She was a Mage and wanted to help them. They could not help what they were. Mages were born Mages; Templars chose their fate. She knew that they suffered in the order as well. Pressure from on high, taking </span>
  <span>lyrium</span>
  <span> until they Need it. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>What ended up solidifying her decision, was the children. Templars had those in training, but were not given </span>
  <span>lyrium</span>
  <span> and not involved in the fighting. Mages had children who had been taken to the Circles. Children whose fate would likely lie in nothing but death should they be left alone. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Redcliffe was not what she imagined. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> had the thought, but knew she had not imagined the place before. She wondered what she would see if she dreamed here. The Warden had stood for the city, fighting the undead pouring out of the castle into the city below. She had stood with the townspeople and freed the Arl’s son from demon control. Connor, if she remembered right. Leliana had her sitting for an hour or so a day, learning about the history of the world she was trying to save. Her Clan never really bothered with the history of the Shemlen. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The moment she entered the city, she felt ill at ease. A magister was here and allied with the Rebel Mages. Nothing was working out the way it was supposed to. Fiona didn’t remember meeting them. The mages were pledged to </span>
  <span>Tevinter</span>
  <span>. </span>
  <span>Lasa'las</span>
  <span> wanted to rage against it. They would be no better than slaves to their new masters. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Clemetine was a calming balm on the reddening skin of her anger. He was at least someone she could save, if nothing else came from this. Some of those present supported the alliance, but many did not. Connor was one of those that did not. She had been surprised to see him. He looked as ill at ease and she felt. He did not want to indentured to </span>
  <span>Tevinter</span>
  <span>, he had seen enough blood and death in his life. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> wanted to ask him more about the Warden, but he grew increasingly uncomfortable.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Magister Alexius quickly became her least favorite person. She knew the look of those that thought her kind less than. She wouldn’t be surprised if he called her rabbit, or some other just as insulting name. She was pleased when, their meeting was cut short. Felix wasn’t well, she was certain. He felt like death was pulsing through his veins waiting to take his life. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Entering the Chantry to meet Felix was how Dorian made his way onto the scene. He was pretty, she would admit to anyone who asked, but there was a sadness there as well. She was quickly annoyed with his snark and carefree way of acting. She had enough on her plate to know that this wasn’t a joke. People could die. She decided to take Bull’s advice to heart. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the pretty ones, that you need to watch out for.” Dorian scoffed and explained what had happened. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Time travel,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she groaned, </span>
  <em>
    <span>will I ever catch a break!? </span>
  </em>
  <span>The thoughts and fears of everything happening to her, was overwhelming and the fire of the candle reflected that. The room was suddenly very cold, but the candles burned brighter than ever.  Dorian took a step away from her, as Solas stepped toward her.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Da’fen, be calm. You are not alone.”</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn right she’s not.” Varric joined Solas nearby, but had no idea how to help. Dorian looked on as Solas placed his hands on her cheeks and pressed their foreheads together, speaking softly in Elven. She didn’t understand all the words, but it was soothing. The room returned to a normal temperature, and the candle went out as she took steadying breaths and got her magic under control.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that was interesting.” Dorian’s voice pulled them back to the moment, and Solas moved away from her, eyeing the </span>
  <span>Tevinter</span>
  <span> with distrust. Felix showed up later and told them about the </span>
  <span>Venatori</span>
  <span>; a </span>
  <span>Tevinter</span>
  <span> Cult. His father, Alexius, was not following the cult and on a mission to capture the Herald. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> was not comforted as she learned more and more about this cult’s obsession with her and the mark marring her hand. Whatever happened at Haven, this Cult was likely involved. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They agreed to meet back up in Haven and decide what to do about Alexius and his taking the Mages under his control. </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> fled the company of others, and went to the empty house of the master potion maker that died at the Conclave. She couldn’t remember his name, but Adan had been given the man’s notes, to create a </span>
  <span>Lyrium</span>
  <span> potion. She sat with her legs crossed and pulled the wooden carving from around her neck.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There were no rituals for </span>
  <span>Fen’Harel</span>
  <span>, besides the ones to appease him, so he’d leave them alone. She wanted to find some peace and confidence from the belief that she was being guided by him. Those here believed the Maker’s hand was leading her Path, but she thought it was likely someone like </span>
  <span>Fen’Harel</span>
  <span>. After all the sheer craziness of the events leading to this moment, felt like the start of a very bad joke. He was supposed to be laughing right? </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She set the necklace down, head in her hands, and stared at it, trying to decided what to do. The other Creators all had different ceremonies she could do to ask for their aid. She sighing, rubbing her eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Would it be appropriate to just wing it?</span>
  </em>
  <span> That felt right, but she lacked the confidence. If </span>
  <span>Fen’Harel</span>
  <span> really was guiding her down this path, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what was his aim.</span>
  </em>
  
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> agreed that </span>
  <span>Fen’harel</span>
  <span> often worked in a way that was twisted and hard to see until the deed as done. However, he always did what was asked of him, if not in the way the asker wanted. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She was certain this was how he got such a negative reputation. People wanted things their way, even from their Gods. If the others acted in a way her people approved of, surely </span>
  <span>Fen’harel</span>
  <span> would fall out of favor with worshipers. The carved wolf, continued to stare up at her, nothing but judgement in his gaze. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here?” Solas entered the house, his presence added a calmness to the space it had been lacking before.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Trying to decide how to ask for guidance.” She didn’t see him freeze uncertain for a moment before continuing his path to her side. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Guidance? From whom?” He stopped next her and looked down, seeing the idol staring up at him. The Heartwood Idol was a head of a wolf, appearing to growl, with his six eyes gazing out at the viewer. The maker had skill in the craft; it was unsettling to say the least. He knew </span>
  <span>Lasa’las</span>
  <span> took comfort from it, but Solas wished he would never </span>
  <span>have</span>
  <span> to see it. The idol was a reminder of his failures. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Fen’Harel</span>
  <span>...” She shifted uncomfortable, and missed his face twist in a grimace before settling back into his normal calm indifference.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew you... followed him.” Solas paused choosing his words carefully.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I just can’t shake the feeling that this is His doing.” Solas took in a quiet breath; he didn’t like how close to the truth she actually was. “Of all those at the Conclave to survive... why me?” She had asked herself the same question hundreds of times, since waking up in Haven after stopping the ever expansion of the Breach. This was magic, she knew it. The magic in her hand and the magic that ripped a hole in the Veil, were one and the same. “This,” She pointed at the idol. “is the only difference... that only thing that makes me special.” </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“You are a believer in the Creators?” He sat beside her, setting his staff to the side opposite her.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean...” She looked at her friend, who was giving her the same look he gave when he knew something he wanted her to figure out. It was a look that brought frustration and satisfaction in equal measure. “I’m just me... one person in a world of others. I can’t say for certain if there’s a Maker, or Creators, or something else...” She picked up the idol, wiping the wolf with reverence. “Does it matter if they are real or not?” She pressed a kiss to the wolf’s nose. “It’s all to bind us together with something common. To give hope in the hopeless.” She set it back down, fingers loosely holding the leather cord used to place it around her neck. “If it helps... If it gives people hope... A reason to keep... keep trying.” She huffed out the last part. “I’m willing to believe in it.” She sighed.</span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Solas sat silently, fighting the urge to tell her exactly what the Elven Creators were. That </span>
  <span>Fen’Harel</span>
  <span> would not help her, but Solas would. It was a strange distinction in his head, but it mattered. He was unsettled that she was dancing around his involvement in a way that was far from the actual truth. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His mind could not decide whether to be annoyed, angry, or flattered that this </span>
  <span>Dalish</span>
  <span> child turn her nose up at her Clan’s belief and chose to follow Fen’harel instead. He wondered about the Idol, knowing that her brother gave it to her. Her clan would not have approved of her wearing such a thing, it would have had to be hidden from them. In his youth, he would have thought it a great trick; a harmless bit of fun that mocked those trapped in their ways. Now, he was tired. Knowing she believed he was guiding her, when he actually was; it was unnerving. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Fen’harel...” Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts. She had the idol in her hands again, pressing it to her chest, her eyes squeezed so tightly her whole body looked tense. “I don’t know if you’re real... or... or... if you’ll listen to me. But...” Solas watched her face turned read, and felt a rush of affection for her. She was trusting him with this moment of vulnerability. It was a foolish thing to do, but he was still honored to be trusted. “... If this is your game... please help me... right it. People are being hurt...” She let out a frustrated growl. “I’m being stupid.” She placed the idol back around her neck, looking at her hands defeated. “My keeper is probably laughing at me.” Solas placed his hand on her shoulder, turning her to press their foreheads together. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <span>Da’fen</span>
  <span>, a god may not be here to help, to guide you, but I am.” She sagged into him, sniffling. </span>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” </span>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>SoOOooooo, I had intended this to go until they get to Skyhold, however it's going to go passed it... My aim is to have her move through the whole game. I will not be getting to in depth with everything that happens in the game, just things that I changed or added to. I want to focus more on The Inquisitor's relationships with everyone, rather than her purpose of stopping Cory. </p><p>I'm also planning on introducing the Warden into the story as a part of the plot. I was upset my Warden never made an appearance. She'd give Solas a run for his money, and likely see through a lot of his manipulations. </p><p>I was always a bit annoyed that as the Inquisitor you never really get to question him. I mean "I saw it in the Fade" is a flimsy justification to always use! Maybe if you become his enemy? IDK. </p><p>My friend's Warden was a Casteless Dwarf, and she certain would have not trusted him. On a second play through his manipulations are more obvious. Like when he wants the Inquisitor to do something he suddenly uses we or our People. But then turns around and is like 'Nah, I am not one of your People.'</p><p>Next time; Into the PAST!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. In Hushed Whispers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/n There is a graphic description of the product of violence (I’m bolding it, and separating it with ^^^^^^^^^), I’ll post a summary at the end if you need to skip it. This chapter has one of first big changes in this story. Be warned I am not changing the ending of the game much, if at all. If you are looking for an AU ending, this is not the story for you. &lt;3 </p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lasa’las was standing before the war table in Haven, feeling uncertain as her three advisers argued over the siege of Redcliffe. Cullen wanted to abandoned the mages and pursue the Templars, Josephine and Cassandra wanted to put a stop to the Tevinter presence in Ferelden. All agreed that the invitation for her to speak with him was a trap. There seemed no way forward with the mages, but she was unwilling to abandon them. </p><p>“There must be something.” Her voice was quiet but drew the attention of the advisors. She rarely spoke out loud, prefer to gather her thoughts and only speak when she knew what she wanted to say. She relied too much on her advisors, Solas had cautioned her. She did not often make choices without getting other opinions. She saw it as a strength, lacking in a lot of leadership. She made the choice, but hearing from others was necessary with her ignorance of the world outside of her clan.  </p><p>“There may be a way.” Leliana told them about the tunnel the Warden used to enter the castle and stop Connor. That was years ago, but she doubted that it was sealed up. They had a plan, Leliana would sneak in soldiers while Lasa’las caused a distraction. Cullen gave one last warning, they could still go for the Templars. Lasa’las thought about the Mages they had spoken to in Redcliffe, both for and against the alliance with Tevinter. She needed to help them. Frowning, she made the choice. </p><p>They were to return to Redcliffe the following day. It would take a few days, but they would be there before she knew it. Lasa’las sat around the fire with Varric, trying to decide which companions she should take with her. Everyone wanted to go, each for their own reasons. Some for the glory, some because it was right, and some simply to be with her when she was in need. Varric fell into the last category she was certain, so he was coming along. She wanted to take Solas, but there was something in her mind, telling her that was not a good idea. Three mages and a rogue would not stand much of a chance if they were to fight to many or for too long.  </p><p>Leliana swore that they would likely, not face any advisory besides possibly Alexius. Lasa’las knew that nothing every came to plan since the Conclave. Frowning she decided on Cassandra. She was resistant to Mages in ways Iron Bull and Blackwall were not. That was a well-balanced team, she smiled proud of herself. Varric approved, Solas did not. </p><p>“Be careful Da’fen.” Solas told her later before she went to bed. “We don’t know what you may encounter; the time travel Alexius could have possibly used is unsettling.” She nodded, letting the advice go as quickly as he gave it. She knew he said more, but none of that really mattered. She’d be fine. While she prepared for a battle, it was unlikely.  </p><p>“Shit... I should have listened to Solas...” Lasa’las stood in hip deep water locked in what appeared to be the dungeon of Redcliffe, lamenting the fact that she KNEW, KNEW nothing worked out the way it was supposed to. She tried to recall something other than the ‘be careful’ at the beginning. They had up until a moment ago been safe in the Great Hall having outsmarted Alexius. </p><p>“What did Solas say?” Dorian, leaned heavily on his staff watching her face dance between panic and sorrow. She blushed, not wanting to admit she hadn’t been paying attention, but also could not think of advice that would fit with the Hedge Mage Elf everyone knew. </p><p>“Be... careful?” She made an uncertain face. </p><p>“Helpful.” Dorian laughed. She stared lost at the iron door, her hand with the key shaking. “We’ll be fine. I just need to get that amulet and I can possibly get us home.” </p><p>“Possibly.” She took a deep breath. “With my luck? It's not looking good.” She opened the door and walked out with as much confidence as possible. Dorian followed, staff in hand.  </p><p>They walked for a while, looting chests along the way. Lasa’las was pleased that she had remembered to resupply all their potions. Two mages were going to need them. The castle was nothing like it was when Dorian snuck in with the Inquisition soldiers. Red Lyrium was everywhere, making both of them nervous. She entered what she guessed was a dungeon and had a long uncomfortable conversation with Fiona, who was part Red Lyrium. Leliana being in the castle was unsettling. Everything had certainly fallen, while they were thrown a year into the future.  </p><p>Cassandra was praying when they found her. She was shaking, begging for Andraste. She was surprised to see them and told them about the assassination of Empress Celene and the army of demons. The air was getting heavy for Lasa’las who was suddenly very afraid that even if they did get back, she would fail and this would happen anyway. The pressure was on and she was not dealing with it well.  </p><p>Varric was in another cell and was a lot less expressive about his opinion of what had occurred. He threw around a joke or too, making Lasa’las feel better. She had stopped shaking by the time they reached the courtyard. Varric’s light nature was helping greatly. </p><p> </p><p><b> ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ </b> </p><p> </p><p><b> They closed several Rifts and  </b> <b> Lasa’las </b> <b> shaking returned. At the entrance to the main castle, a woman with dragon like wings was nailed above the door. She looked frail and badly beaten. They approached slowly, Varric making a disgusted noise. Dorian covered his nose against the smell. Leliana and Cassandra didn’t react.  </b> <b> Lasa’las </b> <b>  walked over to her slowly, taking in her form. She was in a short dress, ripped in a couple places, showing off the deep scars zigzagged across her skin. There was blood dried on her cheeks, so dark,  </b> <b> Lasa’las </b> <b>  knew it must have been there a while. Her wings were nailed spread out, showing off the scales and dragon like features. </b> </p><p><b> “Mythal?” She whispered to herself, remembering the statues of the All-Mother she had seen with her Dalish Clan on their travels. The woman moved surprising them all. Every single person jumped as she opened her eyes, they were hollow as if scooped out. </b> </p><p><b> “Shit.” Varric was the only one who spoke, cursing. </b> </p><p><b> “Who...” She coughed, blood pooling on her chin.  </b> </p><p><b> “Andraste help us...” Cassandra spoke softly, moving toward  </b> <b> Lasa’las </b> <b>  who remained frozen before the woman.  </b> <b> Lasa’las </b> <b>  reacted before Cassandra could get to her and created an ice bridge up to her. </b> </p><p><b> “Cassandra, help me get her down.” There was more certainty in her voice than ever before. Cassandra listened to her command without thinking. It took a bit of time, but eventually they had her leaning against the wall next to the gate, her wings were limp behind her. Lasa’las wiped the blood off her hands. “I’m sorry...  </b> <b> Is.. </b> <b>  Is there anything I can do for you?” Her confidence had passed. </b> </p><p><b> “Who are you?” The strange woman’s voice was soft, her eyes were closed again. </b> </p><p><b> “Lasa’las.” She answered, wiping the blood from the woman’s face with cloth from her pouch. “I... I’m sorry... I should have been here.” </b> </p><p><b> “Hmm.” She took in a slow breath, as if it was difficult to breath. “Nothing is ever only on one.” </b> </p><p><b> “I’m the Herald.”  </b> <b> Lasa’las </b> <b> was fighting back tears, trying to clean the woman’s face and identify her. There was so much damage, that was unlikely. She gasped as she brushed her hair back and saw her ears were cutoff at her skull. </b> </p><p><b> “We are not what others make us.” She sat up a little taller, pulling the younger woman’s hands into her own. “Merely what we chose to be.” </b> </p><p><b> “Andraste’s tits.” Varric laughed as the woman did as well, a weak smile on her face. </b> </p><p><b> “Don’t worry, I’m pleased with the what I’ve done. Death is merely a part of life.” She laughed a little harder, releasing  </b> <b> Lasa’las’s </b> <b>  hands and pressing her whole body into the stone of the building, struggling to stay upright. </b> </p><p><b> “How did you get here?” Leliana asked, as the only one who was still thinking about the state of the world. </b> </p><p><b> “That’s a long story.” She was starting to fade in and out of  </b> <b> consciousness </b> <b> . </b> </p><p><b> “Make it short.” </b> </p><p><b> “Hmm.” She took in a deep breath. “ </b> <b> Fen’harel </b> <b>  lead the survivors for a time.” She took a second to breathe,  </b> <b> Lasa’las </b> <b>  had paled, but no one noticed. “I was the last Being able to challenge  </b> <b> Coriph </b> <b> -whatever.” She let out an annoyed growl. “Not that HE agreed.” Varric chuckled. She went silent and sagged into the wall. </b> </p><p><b> “ </b> <b> Mythal </b> <b> ?”  </b> <b> Lasa’las </b> <b>  touched her cheek, and she jerked awake. </b> </p><p><b> “I... I hold them off while others escape, mostly.” She shrugged. “ </b> <b> Fenarel </b> <b>  had a plan.”  </b> <b> She slurred </b> <b>  a bit before snorted. “I doubt it worked... not sure what it was.” She opened her eyes, the hollow space gazing out at the sky. “Held him off as long as I could.” She took several shallow breaths. “He was angry I wasn’t like the others. Couldn't control me.” She let her eyes close again, turning her head around their group,  </b> <b> Lasa’las </b> <b>  wondered if she could see them another way.  </b> </p><p><b> “Others?” </b> </p><p><b> “Like me.” She was sinking into the wall. “Get out... if... he comes. I’ll hold him... for as long as I can.” Her voice was getting breathy. </b> </p><p><b> “You don’t look like you’ll be going anywhere...” She chuckled at Dorian’s voice, smiling with a grin full of broken teeth.  </b> </p><p><b> “I’ll see you on the other side.” She didn’t respond to anything else after that.  </b> <b> Lasa’las </b> <b>  left her cloak over her body, wanting to bring her with them, but know that it was not possible.  </b> </p><p><b> “There is nothing we can do.” Leliana continued forward.  </b> <b> Lasa’las </b> <b>  glanced back once more at the winged woman before continuing on. “The only way to save everyone, is for this to never happen.”  </b> <b> Lasa’las </b> <b>  nodded, knowing she was right, even if it was hard. She wondered if the woman was really  </b> <b> Mythal </b> <b> , or someone else. She’d never know now.  </b> </p><p> </p><p><b> ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ </b> </p><p> </p><p>Alexius was in the Great Hall, the same place she and Dorian had been thrown back in time. Felix was not in much better shape than the woman with wings. Lasa’las told Leliana to stop Felix’s suffering. No one should live like he was. Alexius died. </p><p>Lasa’las tried to stand still as the whole world started to shake. She watched in horror as Varric and Cassandra headed out of the room, to give them as much time as possible. Her eyes widened when she saw the winged woman slam into the ground, only to stand on shaking feet and launch into the air again as the door closed. The world continued to shake, the door opened Varric and Cassandra were dead. Leliana’s began to rain arrows down at their attackers. Lasa’las was shaking, she wanted to help. They were going to die for her. Varric, Cassandra, Leliana, and the strange woman who didn’t even know her. They all were willing to lay their lives down for hers, without a second thought. </p><p>She stepped through to the room Alexius had banished them from. Her clothes still had the blood of the woman on them, her face streaked with dried tears. Dorian said something smart, Lasa’las threw fire magic at Alexius and punched him in the face with a cry of anger and distress. There was silence as everyone watched Lasa’las scream words so high and filled with anger that no one could make them out. Dorian looked on not know what to do. Eventually Varric touched her hand, drawing her out of her rage. </p><p>“He killed you Varric! All of you! And FOR WHAT!?” She twisted around, eyes glaring at the mage who would be responsible for the future she prevented. “You... How dare you!” She stood a little straighter, ready to kill him. It was the first time she had ever felt such a feeling. The certainty that someone deserved to die.  </p><p>“Lasa’las.” Varric’s voice was warm, trying to offer her comfort. She gathered herself enough to turn toward their soldiers ready to order them to take him back to Haven. She’d deal with him there. Soldiers not her own entered, shiny and wearing Ferelden armor. Queen Anora; she looked nothing like Lasa’las imagined. </p><p>“Grand Enchanter Fiona!” Lasa’las watched as they were kicked out of Ferelden. She sighed, pleased that she made the choice she did. The Mages would be destroyed without it.  </p><p>“You will come with us.” Her voice filled with the certainty she held on to from the moment in the future. She gave them a partnership, and did her best to not look at Cassandra, who she knew would disapprove of the choice. “The Breach threatens us all. Nothing else matters.”  </p><p>The trip back to Haven was quiet, as Dorian relayed the story to everyone that would listen. Lasa’las kept to herself, mourning those who died for her. They would not have made it back without them. Leliana, Varric, Cassandra, and the woman she called Mythal. It was a strange feeling to connect with a Creator not Fen’harel. She wondered what caused the two to work together. She imagined that maybe they were friends once, and that was the foundation of their companionship. Mythal had spoken of Fen’harel as if he annoyed her. Maybe he had wanted to lead, but didn’t for some reason. Lasa’las’s head was filled with stories and possibilities she wanted to share with Solas. He’d understand. </p><p>“Da’fen,” She smiled as Solas greeted them at the gate, quietly calling so no one else would hear it. She waved, shaking with the effort to not run into his arms and cry. The trip had shaken her greatly, and she knew what was at stake if she failed.  </p><p>She wanted to know what Solas thought of the Mythal from the future.  </p><p>Fiona had yet to arrive with her Mages, leaving the fledgling Inquisition time to settle into the idea. Lasa’las was busy telling Leliana, Cullen, and Josephine about the future Dorian and her witnessed. All the while, she wanted to disappear for a while and mourn properly. Varric, Leliana, and Cassandra were alive, but Mythal was not. The strong woman who stood toe to toe with Cory, even after suffering so.  </p><p>“Solas...” She walked up to him, tears already building in her eyes. “Come with me?” He nodded and together they walked to where she had tossed the idol. She thought it was a good place to let things go. She told him of the strange future. She focused on the woman, Mythal, she called her. Solas had tensed as she spoke about her with reverence. Fighting tears when she expressed the sorrow at her loss. She was someone worthy of the power she was given; a true hero. </p><p>“You call her Mythal, because she had wings?” Lasa’las explained the statues she had seen and how the woman reminded her of the All-Mother. Caring and protective like the stories her Keeper told. She was broken and hurt, but when Lasa’las needed her, she rose up in her defense. Just as the All-Mother was said to. Solas was silent as Lasa’las cried silently. He sat beside her as she kneeled like her Keeper taught all Dalish, and prayed Falon’din guided her to the next place. She did not know what else to do. </p><p>“In the Fade...” Solas started speaking, “It was customary to cut one’s hair, when in mourning.” She gazed at his bald head and wondered if he was mourning.  </p><p>“Will... Will you help me.” He smiled at her question. </p><p>“Of course, Little wolf.” He accepted her knife and began cutting her hair, as she fought her shaking while tears streamed down her face. </p><p>“She didn’t... didn’t even know me. Yet...” </p><p>“A great woman indeed.” He sighed, warmth in his eyes as he gazed at her. “Mythal would be proud of her. Protecting one of the People.” Her smile split her face, and she nodded frantically. </p><p>“I owe her so much, and I will likely never meet her again.” </p><p>“One never knows things for certain.” Solas helped her up and they started back to Haven. Once the Mages arrived, they would be closing the Breach and the main goal would be achieved. No one but Varric commented on her short hair, and all he did was say was that it suited her. She ran her fingers through the locks, accepting that this was the start of something new.  </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Summary: They find a woman with dragon wings who has been tortured. She tells them that Fen’harel lead the survivors after Cory’s victory, with her as a powerhouse that held back the enemy while others escaped. She was the last Being able to rival Cory’s power. Lasa’las decided to call her Mythal. She tells them that she doubts Fen’harel’s plan to stop Cory worked, since she was captured and nothing changed. Mythal says Cory hates her, because she can’t be controlled like the others like her.  </p><p>A/n That was a dark chapter, likely the darkest the story will get. The rest will be about the same level as the game itself. Which is pretty dark. I’ll keep posting Warnings as needed! Thank you for reading, please comment/review. NEXT TIME; THE BREACH! </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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